


Seven

by Fangu



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Not Comfort, Nothing Here To See, Turks - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2550185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangu/pseuds/Fangu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They do what they need to do to keep doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Thing I will keep expanding on.

**I.**

When that silver-tongued electro freak calling himself Reno allowed for himself be taken out by a group of untrained terrorists, Tseng was appointed the task of finding his replacement.

Even for how the new recruit would be working under Tseng, it was rare for executive managers to leave this process to the division leaders. Something was stirring on the higher floors, he was sure.

It was past midnight as he was finishing the list of names and their less than impressive accomplishments. Emptying the can of grape flavoured soda, he contemplated the two faces on the dimly lit screen in front of him. They were both female; one was younger, the other prettier - in the end, it came down to accomplishment. Tseng chewed on his decision. In his experience, women were over-achievers, meaning they were all fairly accomplished, so the go-to choice would be ‘pretty’. But there was something about the name of the younger - ah. Her last name belonged to a former Turk.

And so Tseng figured she’d have something to prove.

“Elena, Sir,” the blonde said the morning two days later. Tseng finished his typing before acknowledging her presence, while she waited like a loyal dog. This pleased him.

He was still shaking off a rough night. Sleep hadn’t been his friend for years, unlike his physician, except when he was off to Costa del Sol to sleep with prostitutes. “Reporting. Sir.”

He looked her up and down. And up. She had the height of her sister, not short as her pictures suggested. To his disappointment, the long, blonde locks from her profile photo were gone, replaced by a more modern crop. The administration had already presented her with a working outfit - the characteristic, blue Turk suit. This one looked worn.

“Recruit,” he said, gesturing towards the electronics on his desk. “Head down to HR and have them set up your user and system access. I will be transmitting your mission details this afternoon. Report for briefing at 8 tomorrow morning. You will be working with Rude.”

She showed no signs of surprise or distress. “Sir.”

After picking up her items, Tseng watched her leave. Her trousers were loose fitting; it would take time to gain the muscle her sister had by the time of her death.

**Author's Note:**

> I regret posting this now; should have waited. I have become one of those people who never update X(


End file.
